


Her Hardest Hue to Hold

by Findecutie, MayGlenn



Series: Russ and Finno Verse [4]
Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-24
Updated: 2015-03-02
Packaged: 2018-03-14 21:08:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 19,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3425636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Findecutie/pseuds/Findecutie, https://archiveofourown.org/users/MayGlenn/pseuds/MayGlenn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Babysitter-for-life teenage Maedhros and picky-eater child Fingon enjoy a few culinary adventures, a trip to the river, and a sleepover.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Russ!” Fingon leapt from his mother’s arms, hitting the ground rolling and then sprinting towards his cousin on short but eager legs.“Russandol, Russandol, Russ’nya!” he squealed as he latched onto Maedhros’ legs. His cousin picked him up and twirled him around; he did not even notice his skinned knee until Maedhros set him down. His eyes watered, and he grabbed his cousin’s hand. “Hurts!” He pointed to the offending injury. “Make it better?”

"Ai, Findekáno," Maedhros scolded as he caught sight of the injury, taking a knee and sitting Fingon on his leg: "You must be careful to look before you leap! And remember amil’s arms are always safest." But he kissed the offended knee obligingly, and when Fingon laughed, all better, he spun Fingon around again and kissed his face and neck until he was shrieking with delight, and held him upside-down as Anairë approached, pregnant with her second child and moving slower as a result. Maedhros bowed and offered her a hand. "Amil is in her workshop," he said politely, "and tea is set. Has Findekáno eaten or should I feed him?"

“He may have eaten once, but I guarantee you he’ll be willing to eat again.” Anairë sighed ruefully. “Perhaps you can convince him to eat a bit more greenery than I managed today.” Barely old enough to run and Fingon was already turning into a remarkably picky eater. She sighed. Fingon stuck out his tongue, kicking at Maedhros’ shoulder.

“Will you cook for me, Mait’mo?” He laughed as Maedhros began to swing him back and forth lightly. “Russ, Russ, Russ, Russ!”

"I’ll do my best, Auntie, but it’s not up to me if Finno wants to grow up to be big and strong or not," he teased pointedly, swinging Fingon right-side-up as he began to wriggle in earnest. "You are squirmy today, my little bug," he told him, and laughed.

"Big and strong!" Fingon chimed, grabbing a handful of his cousin’s hair. "Like Russ, Russ, Russ! And ‘m not a bug, Maitimo! Grandmother says I’m dorable."

Anairë shook her head, laughing.  ”I’ll leave him in your capable hands, Nelyo. Make sure you get a bite to eat yourself! This one’s a bundle of energy today.” She kissed Maedhros’ brow and then Fingon’s before heading off in search of her sister-in-law.

"If I get hungry I’ll eat Finno," Maedhros informed her casually, folding Fingon up in his arms and nibbling on his nose, delighted by his shrieks. Eventually he stopped tickling him (and trying to eat his nose), and swung him easily to one hip as they went inside. "All right, come on. Tyelko is playing with his new puppy—would you like to see? Or are you hungry first?"

"Uummm." Fingon was torn, wanting to play with the puppy but also loving Maedhros’ cooking. The prospect of having Maedhros to himself settled it. "Can we eat together? Out on the porch?" Fingon grinned at his cousin. "I can help you cook!" He stated, then planted a sloppy kiss on Maedhros’ cheek.

Laughing, Maedhros hugged Fingon close. “Of course,” he said, pressing their cheeks together. “Let me just go and check on them, all right?” he said, poking his head inside the sunroom, where Celegorm was on the floor with his puppy on top of him. Maglor was at the piano, tinking out a tune and keeping at least one eye on his younger brother, though he looked up at the door. Holding up Fingon as evidence, Maglor waved and nodded, indicating that he had things under control in here and that pup and baby were babysitting each other. “All right,” Maedhros said as he closed the door and retreated to the kitchen. “We’ll make enough for them to have some, too. Now your amil said to feed you greens—” he began, gauging his cousin’s reaction.

Fingon have him a Look. The expression would have made most Eldar take a double take because it resembled Fëanor far more than it did Fingolfin or Anairë. “A little. But not _all_ green.” Fingon bounced. “Don’t you wanna cook for me? Your food is…” He paused, searching for high enough praise. “Really, really good,” he settled on, patting his stomach enthusiastically. “Will you make pancakes or pie or s’getti? Or choc-o-late.” The last word was pronounced slowly and carefully. “Pleeeeease?”

Maedhros regularly had to check himself with Fingon, to not be taken in by his sweet demands, precious face, huge blue eyes and long unruly hair and give him everything he wanted. Also Fingon was already practicing his displeased glare and it was simultaneously the most precious and most worrying glare Maedhros had ever received. “All right, all right,” he laughed. “I think I have an idea that will be more fun than pancakes or spaghetti—and it will include some chocolate _if_ we finish all our greens. How does that sound? And you will get to help me!” He sat Fingon on the counter far from sink and stove. “Can you sit here for me?”

"Mhmm. And we’ll make fooood!" Fingon put on a serious expression. "And then you’ll eat with me, right?" He grabbed Maedhros’ hand with a set of chubby fingers. "Pleasepleaseplease? We could eat on the porch or here in the kitchen with more food." He nodded, grinning widely.

Maedhros laughed—he always laughed when Fingon was around. “We’ll eat in here, with, as you say, more food, and when we’re done we’ll have Kano and Turko in.” He bustled around the kitchen, first donning an apron and helping Fingon dress in a smaller apron that he had used when he was younger—though it was still big on his cousin—and then getting out all the vegetables they would need: broccoli, cauliflower, mushrooms, peppers of different colors, and finally locating some dry bread, a few apples, and lots of cheese. “Have you ever had a fondue, Findekáno?” he asked.

"No?" Fingon didn’t think so. "What’s that?"

"Well it’s very, very exciting," Maedhros explained. "We get to use these—" he said, showing Fingon a long fondue fork. "Can you be very careful with this for me?" he asked before leaving it in his charge and proceeding to wash and cut the vegetables.

Fingon’s nose wrinkled. “Lots of veggies,” he observed. Then he spotted Maedhros working with one of his favorite foods. “Shrooms!” He wiggled, swinging the fork and dancing where he sat. “Mush mush mush, room room rooms. Mushroo-mushroom mushrooms!” He laughed at Maedhros’ expression. “You’re the best, Russandol! May I eat one now?”

"You may have one," Maedhros said (may his children never look like Fingon, he prayed silently, that they might not grow up spoiled rotten from his inability to say no to them), but that he was holding a large knife was some indication that he meant what he said. He smiled. "Can you pick one up with your long fork?"

Fingon held the fork with both hands, poking at the mushrooms. After a minute he stuck out his tongue and, focusing intensely, succeeded in stabbing two. He swung the fork to Maedhros. “One for me and one for you!”

Surprised by the sudden mushroom in his face, Maedhros carefully pulled the mushroom off the fork and popped it into his mouth while he finished cutting their vegetables. “All right,” he said, putting the vegetables into bowls and sliding Fingon closer to the stove. “We’re going to have to heat some things up. Can you make sure to be _very_ careful and not touch any of the pots? That’s why we have a long fork.”

"I won’t touch!" Fingon watched curiously as Maedhros continued to work. "What are we cooking them in? Is fondue a pie?" He couldn’t quite imagine eating with the long fork in his hand—he could barely spear the (admittedly far away) mushrooms with it.

"Not quite," Maedhros said, turning Fingon toward the stove, within reach of the fondue fork but otherwise as far back as he could to keep him safe. "Cross your legs," he said, and put a large trencher plate over his lap in case things got messy. "It’s more of a sauce. A cheesy sauce, and we can also heat some broth if we want our veggies cooked. Now don’t move," he warned as he moved away to fetch the ingredients. He made the cheese plainer than he usually did, without much in the way of spice, though he did flavor it with a splash of beer (he hoped Aunt Anairë didn’t find out about that), while he the broth boiled with leafy herbs. "Doesn’t that smell nice?" he asked, laying a few of each kind of veggie and a few cubes of bread out on the tray on Fingon’s lap.

"Smells delicious," Fingon murmured. He could smell the melted cheese as well as the herbs and grown-up drink taste—he wanted a bowl of it! "Do we pour it on?" he wondered. But then what was the fork for? Fingon pondered, smiling and kicking his feet as he watched Maedhros work. "You’re ‘mazing, Maitimo. I could eat your food every day." He tilted his head slightly as he eyed his plate, "Even if it has green ‘n white stuff."

"Don’t kick now, keep your feet in," Maedhros admonished, adjusting Fingon’s position, and keeping one hand splayed across his back. "I’ll show you," he said, "but I’ll need your help." He picked up a fondue fork and set the point in front of Fingon. "Now what do you think I would like to eat?" he asked: "Stick it on the end there."

Fingon thought for moment, hands hovering over the mushrooms and the rich bread. Finally, unable to decide, he stuck both on the end, mushroom first. “Good?”

Maedhros’ heart swelled in admiration as Findekáno chose to give away his two favorites, where most other children (his brothers, for example) would have given him the dreaded cauliflower. “But one at a time, Finno. Let’s try the mushroom first, all right? Now we use the long fork so we don’t burn ourselves,” he explained, having Fingon help him hold it as he steeped it in the simmering broth. “Can you help me count to thirty?” he asked.

"Uh huh. One, two, three—" Fingon smiled at Maedhros, torn between watching his cousin and watching where the fork was dipped in the broth. He quickly reached thirty and watched as Maedhros removed the vegetable. "I think I can /smell/ it!" Fingon’s stomach growled. "How is it? Are you going to try it now? Or add cheese?"

"This will be good as is, I think, but we must let it cool," he said, sliding the mushroom off the fork and onto the trencher. "And we can try other things with other bites. Wait for it to cool," he warned as Fingon’s hand wandered, "and this is mine, anyway, remember?" He smiled. "But I will share it with you. Go on, bite it in half. I think it’s cool now."

Fingon held it carefully and took a small bite from the side, though he left the tip (which he and Maedhros had previously agreed was the best part of the textured mushrooms) for his cousin. His eyes widened as he held it in his mouth, savoring it as his stomach rumbled. “It’s _good_! Try it!”

Maedhros slurped the mushroom from Fingon’s fingers, _Mm_ -ing exaggeratedly and thanking Fingon for the treat. “Now the bread. Shall we dip it in the hot cheese? We can each have one this time,” he said, helping Fingon to hold his cheese fork on his own. “So—we dip—pull it out, and wait until the cheese cools. Blow on it!”

Fingon puffed out his cheeks and blew, watching as the cheese steamed in front of him. He blew again. “Good? May I try it Russandol?” He inhaled deeply and shivered in delight. With Maedhros’ approval, he pulled the bread off and ate it. “Mmmm. Yum! Russ, c’mere?”

Maedhros grinned, eating his own cheese bread and sliding his arm around Fingon. “I’m here, Finno,” he said.

Fingon looked at the counter beside him as he carefully set down his fork. Then he wrapped his arms around Maedhros as far as he could, squeezing. Leaning up he planted another sloppy kiss on his cheek. “Hugs and kisses to say thank you!” The half-sung phrase sounded like a piece of advice from Anairë, and it was in fact something she taught her son.

Maedhros smiled, kissing Fingon on his cheek. “That is sound advice.” He now speared a head of broccoli, let it sit in the broth, and then dipped it in cheese. “If I were to give you this, and you liked it, would I get another such hug and kiss?”

“Mm-hmm.” Fingon tucked himself against Maedhros’ side happily. “Do you want them first just in case I don’t?”

Maedhros shook his head. “I think you will like it.” Now that it was cool he held it to Fingon’s mouth, and bid him taste.

Fingon chewed it carefully, concentrating on the flavors of the cheese and broth, and the texture of the cooked vegetable. “It’s… it’s not bad. Maybe I can eat green foods if they’re yours?” He looked up at Maedhros, with a hopeful grin.

Maedhros smiled softly, but not very brightly. “That won’t make your amil very happy. Let us try another. You like peppers? The red ones are sweet. Should we have this in cheese or broth? Or both?”

“Both!” Fingon picked up his fork. “Can we each make one? That way we both get a whole bit?” He speared a pepper and held his fork out to Maedhros.

"Findekáno, your thoughtfulness never ceases to impress me. Thank you. I will," he said, taking Fingon’s fork and waiting until Fingon readied his. "We shall go together, in this as in all things," he assured Fingon, as they cooked their vegetables and ate them.


	2. Chapter 2

They worked their way through food that Maedhros had prepared, giggling as they tried different flavor combinations. Fingon clapped in delight at the difference broth and hot cheese made to his cauliflower, and savored every bite of the hearty cheese covered bread. “You’re ‘mazing, Russandol! You’re the—the best!” He looked over at the fondue pots and forks, worried. “Will you make this with me again?”

"Yes, gladly!" Maedhros said. "I am very glad you liked the veg. Your amil will be very pleased with both of us, and I’m sure she’ll allow us to play together again soon!" He winked and kissed and hugged Findekáno: "Hugs and kisses to say thank you."

“Love you,” Fingon whispered, snuggling close. “You’re the bestest.” He pulled back slightly to look at Maedhros with a serious expression. “Mushrooms and bread were still better than the veg, though. But it was all good with the dipping and the extra tastes.”

"Love you," Maedhros returned. "I am very proud of you for trying all the things, Findekáno. And I know the mushrooms and bread are best, but the other things make our tummies and our amils happy."

Fingon nodded in resignation. “It’s not as bad as twice killed veg,” he admitted, searching for the Brightside. It was his name for vegetables cooked so long they turned to an unpleasant mush. “If we ate all of it does that mean we get to have more mushrooms or sweets or oranges or choc-o-late now?”

Maedhros laughed. “There I think I agree with you. A light cooking is better than a overcooking. And yes, I think we’ve earned a dessert,” he said, turning the heat off the burners and tidying up the area (he left the dirty dishes in the sink). “Oh I almost forgot: let’s try some apples in the cheese!”

"Yes, yes yes!" Fingon put one hand to his stomach, rubbing slightly. He had eaten more than he’d realized, but it was all so wonderful. And he would never say no to his cousin’s food. "Apples and cheese!" Besides, fruit was better than veg, he was sure. "Will you cut them up or are we dipping them in whole?"

"We’ll use these slices," Maedhros said, slipping an arm around Fingon’s tiny waist so he could lean back, and speared an apple slice on his fork. "But we’ll only have a few. And we can wait on chocolate til later if you prefer? We don’t want you making yourself sick."

"Ummm… Any time? Maybe we can talk for a few minutes, or take a walk to the stream and then have the choc-o-late?" Fingon smiled at Maedhros beautifully before looking away and kicking his feet. "I like spending time with you," he said quietly. Whatever they did next he just wanted it to be something with Maedhros and himself. An adventure, perhaps.

Maedhros smiled. “Sure!” he said. “An adventure, perhaps?” When Findekáno brightened and nearly launched himself off the counter into his arms, Maedhros laughed. “We should bring food to Kano and Tyelko though, first. Can you fetch me two candles from the candle box, please?” he asked, setting Fingon safely on the ground as he prepared a tray.

"I’ve got ‘em!" Fingon grabbed the candles and scurried back to Maedhros, clutching one in each fist. "Food, food. But you’re saving dessert for us later, right? ‘Cause adventures make us hungry."

"Absolutely," Maedhros beamed. "They can get their own dessert, as far as I’m concerned. And adventures make us very hungry." He arranged a tray with two hot plates, and a dish of things to dip inside. "Can you carry this for me?" he asked, handing Fingon a small dish of meat. " This will be for Huan."

"Do you think Turko will let me pet him?" Fingon held the meat carefully, clutching the dish close to his chest as they went in search of Maglor and Celegorm.

"I think Huan will let you pet him, especially if you have his food," Maedhros said, nudging the door open with his hip. "Food time," he said, setting the tray on a low table. Maglor and Celegorm looked up, as did Huan. "Fondue, with candles, so Káno, can you watch Tyelko?"

Maglor put his notes down and came over, scooping Celegorm into his arms.

"Huan, /down/," Maedhros barked as the dog sniffed at Fingon in too much interest. "Findekáno, hold the bowl over your head. Ask him to sit before you give it to him."

Fingon held the bowl up with both hands, giggling as Huan nosed at him, tail wagging in excitement. “Sit!” He laughed as Huan tilted his head to the side and then nudged at Fingon’s stomach with a whine. “Huan, sit down! If I give you this can I pet you?” Huan’s rear thumped to the floor and Fingon lowered the bowl. Huan stayed still until the moment Fingon’s hands left the bowl and then Huan lunged at it. Fingon scratched behind his ears at pet his back, grinning at Huan as the dog devoured the meat scraps.

Maedhros laughed. “He is a good dog. Smarter than his human, anyway,” he said, snatching little Tyelko’s hand back from the hot plate. “Well done, Findekáno. Tyelko, be very careful with the hot food. Kano will help you. Here, use a long f—no, /not/ to stab me in the eye, thank you.”

Celegorm giggled and kissed Maitimo’s cheek but with an air of irony Maedhros wasn’t sure how he managed being so tiny. “Tank you Nel-oh,” he said, taking the fork and spearing an unlucky pepper.

Maedhros winced at Maglor gratefully and scooping Findekáno up, made their escape.

Fingon laughed and clung to Maedhros, arms wrapping around his neck and holding tight. “Russandol!” He squealed as his cousin half jogged down the corridor, continuing until they reached a side door. “I bet Kano will like the fondue! But Turko seems more interested in poking veg.” He giggled.

"That is a good way to think about it," Maedhros said, tickling Fingon until he squealed. "He likes to stab things, which is not exactly a good habit, but it means he eats his greens." He swung Fingon up onto his shoulders, holding his legs and ducking at the doorways so he wouldn’t hit his head. "Where shall we go?" he asked when they were outside.


	3. Chapter 3

"Um…the stream! Do you want to go to the willows, Russandol?" Fingon pet Maedhros’ hair happily, blinking up at the sky. "Look! A Huan cloud! And it’s fluffy, too!" He swung his feet lightly in enthusiasm though he did not kick Maedhros.

"Yes, the willows are lovely this time of year," Maedhros said, contented to say ’yes’ to everything Fingon ever said. Grabbing his ankles to keep him from falling, Maedhros set out, pointing out a cloud that looked like a dragon as well—

"Oh!" he cried suddenly, swinging Fingon down off his shoulders. "Look, it’s a little lizard, Fin! Let’s catch him!"

"Lizard!" Fingon’s legs were moving even before they reached the ground. He jumped towards the reptile, palms cupped as he tried to grab it. After a moment he did reach the creature, though instead of trying to escape him it immediately ran up his arm, over his shoulder, and under his hair. Fingon danced and squirmed at the tickling sensation of small feet moving on his skin. "Tickles!!! Russ! Help!"

"Oh! Oh, oh," Maedhros cried, gathering up his hair and cupping his hand over the wriggling creature: "Come—here—you little—aha!" he said, bringing his hands away cupped into a ball. "Here we are." He crouched low and opened his hands just enough to let the lizard’s head poke out. "Oh, he’s got a good face!"

"I like him!" Fingon held out a hand and brushed his finger over the top of the lizard’s head. He jumped as its tongue flicked out, swiping across his skin. "Tickles!" He was grinning brightly, however, and looked up at his hero adoringly. "You got ‘im! What are you going to name him? Can I try holding him? I’ll be very gentle."

"Yes, of course you may hold him. We could name him—well, I’ll give him to you, how does that sound? And you could name him. Here, hold out both hands—grab him around the middle but not too hard—good!" he said as he shifted possession of the tiny creature.

Fingon giggled at the creature, eyes locked on the lizard’s as it faced him. “He’s ‘dorable.” Fingon looked up at Maedhros. “But you caught him. If he’s a present he should already have a name. Will you help choose one, please?” Fingon sat on the ground, holding the lizard up to his face to study it.

"All right all right," Maedhros said, sitting, too, and pulling Fingon into his lap. "Well, he’s a nice color, and a distinguished face, I think, so we could call him Bluegreen: Laiquaninwa. It’s a nice name for our distinguished friend." He pet the lizard’s head, who now seemed to settle. He brushed his lips absently over Fingon’s hair.

"Laiquaninwa," Fingon repeated. "It suits him." He grinned up at Maedhros. "And he likes you!" Then again, Fingon could not imagine anyone or anything who wouldn’t love Maedhros. "Can the three of us keep going to the willows?"

"Of course! We should find him some bugs to eat and release him so he can go home to his family, though," he said, standing Fingon on his feet. "Can you carry him all right?"

"Mhmm." Fingon placed the lizard on his shoulder and took Maedhros’ hand in his own as they started to walk. "Thank you for Laiquaninwa, Maitimo!"

"You are very welcome. Thank you for taking such good care of him," Maedhros replied, stooping over to take Fingon’s tiny chubby hand in his. They soon reached the willows, and Maedhros overturned a rock, revealing many tiny bugs. "Oh, here’s a good spot for him, Fin. I think Laiquaninwa will like it here."

Fingon lifted Laiquaninwa from his perch and kissed the lizard’s head before setting him amidst the bugs. He giggled as the lizard made himself quite at home, and squeezed Maedhros’ hand. “He’s having fun.”

"He appears to be—in his own distinguished sort of way." He grinned broadly. "Come here," he said suddenly, lifting Fingon and running toward the river, "I’m going to throw you in the river!" he teased.

“Noooo! Russ!” Fingon’s arms flailed as Maedhros ran with him. He was laughing, though he did manage to grab Maedhros’ sleeve and held tightly. “I’ll get _wet_ , Russandol! Don’t get my hair wet!” His mother had already forced a comb through his tangles once today, and he didn’t desire to repeat the activity any sooner than was absolutely necessary—which, in a young Fingon’s mind, was not that often at all.

"Only joking," Maedhros said quickly, spinning Fingon around instead and then setting him on one hip to look at him seriously. "Now why wouldn’t you want your hair wet, of all things?" he wondered.

“Because it’s _messy_!” Fingon complained. “And untanglement /hurts/!” He looked up at Maedhros with large, sad eyes. “It’s icky and hurts and causes messes. And it sheds into clumps of hair stuck in my brushes and looks gross.” He shuddered. “Do you think I should ask amil to cut it off?”

"No! No, Findekáno! You have lovely, lovely hair! Why, it’s the handsomest hair in all of Tirion!" He made a show of inspecting it carefully. "Now I think we could do something with it that allows for more vigorous play and _won’t_ result in painful untanglement. Do you not like your amil touching it? Or your atar?”

“I don’t even like _me_ touching it!” Fingon had tried yanking a brush through his own hair to avoid parental involvement. The process hadn’t been any better. “But… um… “ he glanced u p at Maedhros shyly, wrapping his arms around Maedhros’ middle. “I guess you could try?” Coming from Fingon right then, it was the most powerful ‘I love you’ and ‘I trust you’ he could give his cousin.

And Maedhros knew it. “Aw, Fin,” he said, carding his fingers through his hair. “I promise to honor the trust you’ve given me. Maybe while we have chocolate?”

“Does that mean I have to feed you dessert?” Fingon asked, laughing. He imagined holding up a fondue fork while Maedhros bit off pieces of dessert, as his cousin’s fingers were busy workout out the tangles in Fingon’s hair. “I always trust you,” he added, gazing adoringly at Maedhros. “You’d never let me down.”

"I will certainly endeavor never to do so," Maedhros said, and planted a sloppy kiss on Fingon’s brow. "Hm. Maybe we’ll wash your hair, too," he said, laughing.

Fingon considered this for a minute. “If you can really fix the tangles without hurting, you can take a bath with me.” He grinned and looked around them. “Will you help me willow swing?” he asked.

Maedhros laughed at the ultimatum. “Yes well, we’ll see,” he said. “But first, willow swinging. Hup!” He cried, lifting Fingon over his head and up toward the branches.

Fingon clutched a branch with his arms and legs, yelling his pleasure. “Swing MeeEEE!” He grinned as Maedhros pushed he branch lower down. “Thank you thank you thank you! You should swing, too, Russandol!”

Maedhros laughed. “Oh, I’m having plenty of fun just watching you!” He told him, swinging him high but watching him to make sure he didn’t fall.

“But I want you to have fun, too.” Fingon sounded concerned. He enjoyed watching his cousin play with Huan, but that didn’t mean he didn’t want to pet Huan and play with the puppy as well. “You’re _always_ helping people, Russ.” Fingon slid down the branch and dropped to the ground. “Over here,” he called, finding a thick clump of branches that almost brushed the ground. “Grab these and climb up a little! And I’ll run with the ends and pull you!”

Maedhros laughed, again touched by Fingon’s concern. “All right, I will,” but first he knelt in front of Fingon and held him by the shoulders. “But you must know I am _always_ having fun when I am with you. Got that?” he cupped his cousin’s chin, and flashed him a smile. “Let’s see what you can do, then,” he said and climbed up the branch a few feet, looking down and waiting.

Fingon grabbed as many of the branches as he could in both hands and walked backwards as far as he could. Then he ran in the opposite direction. It wasn’t far, but it was enough to get Maedhros swinging slightly and Fingon laughed as he tugged the branches one way and then another, eventually giving up and running in small circles.

"Wooh, Finno!" Maedhros whooped. "Not so high! You’re very strong. I’d hate to fly up and all the way around and wrap around the tree," he teased.

“I’m still little,” Fingon countered, switching to run in the opposite direction. “You’re the strong one. You’re big and strong and handsome and awesome. You could carry me all the way to the house from here! And you can lift me over twice my height and make Turko behave and get amil to listen and let you take care of me. And you help Kano with his instr-ments-sing.” When Fingon released the willow and watched Maedhros swing he considered Maedhros’ abilities and failings. He couldn’t come up with any of the latter, although, “I’ve never seen you dance before,” he commented. “Amil makes atar dance with her sometimes. She puts on a flowy gown and they spin and spin under the stars.”

Maedhros smiled to himself as he swung slowly back and forth, thinking. “Findekáno, would you like to dance with me?” As he swung past he dropped off the hanging branches and offered him a hand.


	4. Chapter 4

Fingon’s eyes widened and he nodded, taking Maedhros’ hand. “What should we sing to dance to?” he whispered, trying to position himself as his mother would before a dance began. Their height difference was not helping the situation.

"Would it help if I stood on my knees?" Maedhros offered, dropping down. "I daresay I’m a terrible dancer anyway." He arranged them to a dancing stance, and, "We should sing…um, what’s that jig Kano is always singing?" He hummed a few bars before bursting into song.

Fingon grinned and leaned his head on Maedhros’ shoulder as they shifted from side to side. His cousin had a wonderful voice—soft and rich and full. He could fill a room without yelling and command attention without demanding it. Fingon spun around in his arms, enjoying his first dance.

Maedhros was actually a terrible dancer, and was grateful for the excuse of being on his knees, though he was sure Fingon would only find him wonderful (which was a great part of the appeal of having him for a favorite cousin). “Well!” he said, when the dance was finished. “What do you say to dipping our feet in the stream before we go back?”

“Sounds good,” Fingon said happily, grabbing Maedhros’ hand again. “Thank you for the dancing,” he added with a small courtly bow. He grinned, ruining the image, and began trying to tug off his boots.

Maedhros helped Fingon off with his boots before removing his own. “Will you hold my hand so neither of us fall?” he asked, stepping gingerly over to the water.

Fingon nodded and gripped Maedhros’ hand, standing close to him as they stepped into the water. He dipped a toe in first, and then one foot, and finally walked all the way into the stream. “Feels nice.” He looked out and squeezed Maedhros’ hand tightly. “Fish, Russ! Look!” He pointed with his free hand to show his cousin.

"Ooh! Good eye. Little ones, huh, Fin?" Maedhros commented, laughing. "Maybe we can go fishing down at the lake sometime to catch some big ones. You like fishing, right? You caught that big big one last time, remember?"

“Mm-hmm. It was this big!” Fingon gestured enthusiastically, pulling Maedhros’ arm along as he showed the fish’s length. “Fishing was fun.”

"Good. We’ll go again. Maybe next week? And maybe when you’re a bit older we can learn the lying in wait kind of fishing. It’s a bit more boring, though," he admitted.

“We can willow swing or dance or explore or swim or tell stories while we wait,” Fingon suggested. He pulled them slightly deeper, until the water was at mid-calf, eyes scanning the stream. “There’s _tons_ of fish here! But they’re all little.”

"Yes, a lot of babies, all with their brothers and sisters. They live here until they get bigger and go to live in the lake. Now careful, don’t fall," he warned, holding on tight as Fingon moved deeper and wobbled. "I think you’re too big for Tyelko’s clothes and too small for Kano’s, so if you fall in you’ll have to run around naked," he laughed (he was fairly certain Fingon, like all small children, liked being naked). But he held tight to his hand: he wouldn’t let him fall.

Fingon laughed. “If I did that Turko might get ideas!” He looked around, and the willows hanging over the stream further up were very intriguing. “Russandol?” He asked, tugging on his hand and pointing upstream. “Can we go that way a little?”

"Ooh, sure! What do you think is up there?" Maedhros wondered indulgently: "You lead the way," he said, as Fingon was already dragging him along by two fingers. They made their way upstream, slipping along smooth rocks, and once or twice Maedhros yanked Fingon up just in time to save him from an impromptu swim.

They reached shaded parts of the stream where weeping branches almost brushed the surface of the water and minnows swarmed in pools of light. “Pretty,” Fingon whispered.  He leaned against his cousin, wishing he could capture the image. He laughed at the thought of his father or another Noldor standing where they were with an easel propped in the middle of the stream so that they could draw. “Thank you, Russandol.”

"It is pretty," Maedhros said, sitting quietly on a rock and pulling Fingon into his lap as they enjoyed the view and the sounds of the water. "Do you think we can memorize this and draw it later? Or we can bring sketchbooks here next time and teach ourselves better to draw by practicing." In the meantime, he squeezed Findekáno’s warm body against his. "Thank _you_ , Finnonya,” he replied, resting his chin on the top of Fingon’s head.

Fingon smiled and settled back against his cousin. “Love you, Russ,” he said with a yawn. “That sounds fun. We should draw a whole adventure!”

"Oh we could! And narrate it as well. And include a map for others to follow on the same adventure. Wouldn’t that be a wonderful gift for your amil or atar?" he said, pulling Fingon against him, as he seemed weary. "Are you sleepy, Findekáno? Do you want to go back home? Or shall we sleep here?" he grinned.

"Mm-hmmm. Umm." He yawned again, then shook himself. "We should head back and make choc-o-late dessert!" He glanced up at Maedhros. "Would you like to do that?"

"I would!" Maedhros said, getting to his feet and hefting Findekáno onto his shoulders again. "You know I love cooking for you almost as much as you love eating," he said, shaking his feet off and making his way barefoot down the bank. "All right, hold on," he said as he lowered himself to grab their shoes.

Fingon clung to him, pleased and content, hands wound into Maedhros’ hair. “Can you run with me?” Fingon requested, enjoying the sensation of being high off the ground.

"Run with you?" he repeated, grinning. "Well we’ll have to abandon our shoes so I can hold your legs. Or we’ll have to put our shoes on now. Do you want to do that?" he asked him, holding him in case he decided to wriggle down.

"If we have to," Fingon sighed. "And then you’ll run really fast?" He brightened up slightly at the latter prospect.

"Yep," he said, flipping Fingon as he swung him into his lap. "Here, let’s get those feet dried off," he said to himself as he brushed the bits of grass and dirt from Fingon’s feet with his own socks and dressing them both hurriedly. "All right! Back up," he said, helping Fingon to climb back onto his shoulders before standing.

"Whooo!" Fingon clung to Maedhros, grinning broadly. "To home!" He cried, and they began to move, Fingon’s hair flying behind him.

Holding tight to Fingon’s legs in case he let go, Maedhros took off toward home at a brisk jog, laughing.

Fingon laughed and tugged on his cousin’s hair, guiding Maedhros left and right gently. He bounced along, feeling more awake and downright chipper as they ran back through the meadows to the formal gardens close to the house. “Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!” Fingon chanted quickly and happily in time with Maedhros’ strides.

"All right, Finno, I’m closing my eyes," he said (mostly closing them) "so you have to guide me into the kitchen. I’d hate to hit my nose, so lead me carefully!

Fingon instantly became far more careful, and even more gentle. “One step,” he warned. “Can you smell the kitchen?” He asked, inhaling deeply when they were close.

Maedhros grinned. “No,” he lied. “You’ll have to lead me,” he repeated, taking the step carefully. “Tell me when we get to the door so we don’t hit _your_ nose!”

Laughing, Fingon held tightly as Maedhros sped up carrying them down the hall. “Turn!” Fingon shrieked, trying to pull Maedhros gently but firmly as they reached the doorway to the kitchen. “Careful, Maitimo! Do you smell the kitchen _now_?”

"I do!" Maedhros said, lowering down just an inch. "Are we low enough to clear?" he asked, knowing they weren’t.

"No! I’m going to get bumped!" Fingon shrieked his answer, giggling as Maedhros stooped lower to let them enter. "You’re silly, Russ."

"Is this low enough?" Maedhros asked, going to his knees and walking in the rest of the way before opening his eyes: "Hey, we’re here!" he exclaimed, wrestling Fingon down from his shoulders and blowing a raspberry on his cheek. "Are you ready for chocolate?"

 


	5. Chapter 5

Fingon squirmed and giggled, unbelievably happy and almost glowing with Maedhros’ attention. “I’m _always_ ready for choc-o-late and dessert, Russandol!” He held onto Maedhros’ sleeves and tugged. “What are we making, Russandol?”

"More fondue! Chocolate this time. Now what would be good to dip in chocolate?" he asked, throwing wide the cupboards.

"Everything," Fingon said with a frightening grin. "Apples and bread and crackers and chocolate and bacon and strawberries and raspberries and car-a-mel and cookies and cake and pancakes and pretzels and chips and-"

Maedhros laughed, clapping a hand over his mouth as he took a breath. “Yes, yes, all those _would_ be good. But how about we choose just three for now?”

"Umm…" Fingon looked around the kitchen for inspiration, trying to decide. "Strawberries?" he suggested. "Now it’s your turn. You pick one."

"Oh!" Maedhros said, smiling, _again_ struck by his younger cousin’s thoughtfulness. “Well, how about pretzels?”

“Yum! Pretzels will be good with choc-o-late.” Fingon thought for a moment. “Um… bacon or cookies? Help me choose the last food?”

"Bacon? You’re getting braver with your flavor explorations," Maedhros praised. "But we’d have to fry some up separately. I do have some old cookies I made a few days ago that would be nice. We could try bacon next time."

"Okay," Fingon said agreeably. "And I still like my food separate! But choc-o-late is a special situation. Strawberries, pretzels, and cookies. And fondue!"

"I know, I know you do," Maedhros grinned, lifting Fingon to the sink to wash his hands before he sat him down by the stove and proceeded to melt chocolate in a bit of cooking oil. "Here is your fork," he said, also placing the tray on his lap with broken cookies, pretzels, and a dish of strawberries.

“Um… strawberries work, but how do we fork the pretzels?” Fingon asked. He stuck his tongue out slightly as he speared a strawberry, green end closest to him so that he could cover the largest possible area in chocolate.

"We’ll have to dip with our fingers," Maedhros said, pouring the chocolate from the hot pot into a dish with a candle beneath it. "Now it’s still warm, so I would love to help you with it," he added, swiping two pretzels through, popping one into his mouth before offering one to Fingon.

Maedhros had covered most of the visible pretzel in chocolate, so Fingon grabbed it with his teeth instead of his hands, happily munching on the treat. He moaned appreciatively. “It’s _good_ , Russandol! The hot choc-o-late makes it even better ordinary sweets with pretzels!” Fingon carefully coated his strawberry, and bit into it with relish. He nodded in appreciation of this treat as well, a bead of juice making its way down his chin.

Maedhros wiped the dripping juice off with his thumb, laughing. “I may have to throw you in the river after all,” he teased, “just to get you clean.”

Fingon shook his head quickly in denial and made a fondue strawberry for Maedhros, offering it to his cousin. “No river! But I’ll take a bath if you can help with untanglement.”

Maedhros grinned, gobbling up the strawberry playfully and offering Fingon a cookie dipped in chocolate. “We might have to arrange that,” he said. “I’ll be glad to help with untanglement.”

“Thank you, Russandol,” Fingon said. He munched on the cookie happily, eyes closed in bliss. “This is delicious. I could eat fondue every day.”

"You’re very welcome, Findekáno," Maedhros replied, "and while we may not have fondue every day, do we remember how broccoli and cauliflower taste okay maybe with sauces and other flavors?"

“Fondue is more fun,” Fingon rebutted. “And they weren’t favorites, but they were… better with broth and cheese than without it” He glanced away. “And much better than the mush.”

"Okay, we’ll have to tell your amil and atar not to overcook your veggies," Maedhros said, "and you’re absolutely right, fondue is definitely more fun," he agreed with a grin, taking a cookie for himself and dipping it, and then offering Fingon another pretzel. "And it’s even more fun with you."

“And the _most_ fun with you!” Fingon finished the pretzel and tugged on his cousin’s sleeve. “Um… I don’t want to make amil and atar sad. Could you help them make better veg without telling them what I said about the mush?” He looked at Maedhros pleadingly.

Maedhros thought about this. “Yes, I think I can manage that. Do you think you could manage something for me? It’s very possible that maybe your amil likes mushed veg very much, and your atar makes them like that to make her happy. If that were the case, do you think you might manage a few bites just to make your parents happy? Sometimes we do things we don’t like to make others happy. I think you could do that. And I’ll mention something to them.”

Fingon grimaced but nodded. “I already have to.” Though mostly he just pushed them around on his plate. “But I’ll try to do better.” Because Maedhros had asked him to. He leaned against Maedhros, concentrating on pushing another strawberry onto his fork.

"Of course you will," Maedhros said, kissing his hair, "because you are very good at making other people happy," he praised. "Thank you, Findekáno. In the meantime, what is _your_ favorite here?”

Fingon snuggled closer, thinking as he turned his strawberry in the chocolate. “Um… the strawberries are really juicy and… fresh? But the cookies are super choc-o-laty and sweet… but the pretzels are the most salty.” He shrugged. “I like /all/ of them lots and lots. And I like going back and forth. I think I like that best. Sweet then salty then juicy.”

"Well let’s see, what are you on, then. Sweet?" he asked, not minding that Findekáno was now thoroughly sticky, and dipped a cookie and held it out to him.

Fingon nodded and munched on it happily, making Maedhros another strawberry because he was supposed to keep his hands away from the hot pot. “I think you’re on juicy,” he told Maedhros, offering the strawberry. Then he leaned up to whisper, “but it doesn’t really matter if you’re not. Surprise fondue is good too!”

Maedhros laughed in delight. “Of course it is!” he agreed, biting the strawberry off the fork. “Thank you. That one was well-dipped in just the right amount of chocolate. You are getting very good at fondue! When you’re a little older, I’ll teach you how to make it yourself,” he promised.

“Thank you! And I’m glad it was good.” Fingon clapped in delight. “Could you help me with a pretzel, now?” He worked on another perfect strawberry for Maedhros.

They continued like this, crafting the perfect chocolatey, messy bites and feeding them to each other, until they were covered in chocolate, crumbs, and strawberry juice. When Fingon began to flag, Maedhros pulled him away from the temptation and poured them each a glass of milk. “Now. How about that bath?” he said, eyeing Fingon’s messy hands, face, and shirtfront.

Fingon looked down at himself and then up and Maedhros, carefully holding his hands away from himself “That’s… ah… probably a good idea.” He blinked up at Maedhros, bouncing slightly. “And you’ll help with my hair. But you don’t look so messy. Do you need a bath too?”  

"I think I’ll be all right. I’ll mainly help you, how does that sound?" he asked, guiding Fingon towards the washroom with the smaller tub.

"Sounds good," he said. "Um… what do you want me to do with my clothes? You said no one else’s would fit me."

Maedhros lowered his voice conspiratorially. “I think we can find something while I wash and dry the ones you’re wearing.” He laughed, “Or we’ll just wrap you up in a towel and go read a book, after I untangle your hair. I seem to remember something about a nap time that should be happening right about now…”

High on sugar and fondue and excitement, Fingon wasn’t tired, but he followed along willingly, stripping as Maedhros filled the bath. He shivered. “Can you make the water warm but not too hot?”

"Yup," Maedhros said, already testing the water as he filled the tub. "Oh, wait, here, give me your clothes," he said, setting them in the sink where he would wash them by hand. "There, put your hand in. How’s that? And what kind of bubbles do you want?"

“It’s good,” Fingon said. “Maybe a tiny bit warmer? And fluffy bubbles, if you have them? Or,” he added, coming up with another idea, “whatever kind of bubbles you like to use. Whatever your favorite bubbles are.”

"I meant the scent: we have rosemary, or strawberry, or, well, I don’t know how to describe this one," he said, holding it up to Fingon’s nose as he turned the hot tap.

“Whichever you like best,” Fingon repeated. They all smelled wonderful, though he especially liked the last one, having never smelled anything like it before. “Can I get in?”

"Yup!" Maedhros said, pouring a generous helping of bubbles into the bathwater and lifting Fingon in. He took off his shirt to keep it from getting wet and draped a towel over his knees as he knelt beside the tub. "The temperature all right?" he asked, filling his hands with water and pouring it over his shoulders.

“Perfect!” Fingon sank down, covering himself and already dislodging a great deal of the sugar and crumbs which had clung to him. “Mmm. You have an awesome home, Russandol! And a huge kitchen and really good bath scents.” He relaxed under Maedhros’ hands, the best feeling coming when his cousin washed his back and shoulders gently, large hands guiding him to lean forward and then sink back into the warm, bubble filled water.

Maedhros scrubbed Fingon’s face with a soft cloth and got himself up. “All right, give me a moment, I’m going to rinse off your clothes,” he said, retreating to the sink. “You going to be all right?”

"I’ll be good," Fingon said. He splashed lightly, playing with the piles of foamy bubbles when Maedhros turned away. The one thing he did not do was duck his head under the water. For the moment, the top of his hair remained dry.

"Good," Maedhros said, filling the sink and rinsing his tiny shirt clean of chocolate. "How come you’re not wetting your hair?" He asked pointedly.

“‘Cause it gets more tangled the longer it’s wet. Do I have to dunk now?” Fingon’s nose wrinkled in displeasure though he would do anything Maedhros asked him to.

Maedhros shook his head. “No, you don’t have to. I can wet it for you if you like,” he offered, wringing out the clothes and hanging them up to dry. He picked out his own brush and knelt again by the bath.

Fingon sank slightly lower in the water. “Alright,” he offered quietly. “Be careful?”

"I will, I promise," Maedhros said, turning him around so he was facing away from him. "Will you promise to let me know if I hurt you?" he checked, beginning to comb through the tips, holding onto the rest of it so it wouldn’t pull.

"Promise." Fingon nodded and giggled, happily making mountains out of the piles of bubbles while Maedhros slowly and gently began to comb out his hair. "Do you think in a big enough bath we could make a whole fortress of bubbles?" Fingon asked. "Or maybe a bubble Tirion?" He leveled a bubble plateau and used one finger to draw two stick fingers holding hands, one tall and one small.

"I think we could," Maedhros laughed, trying not to hope that the stick figures were meant to be he and Findekáno. He had reached about halfway up Findekáno’s hair, and here paused. "How’s that?" he asked. "Not hurting?"

Fingon glanced back with a smile. “ _Much_ better than most of the time.” He added a lizard on the ground next to the stick figures and a willow behind them. “Thanks much, Russ,” he added as Maedhros slowly worked on a particularly trying tangle. “Love you.”

"I love you, Findekáno," Maedhros said, smiling because now there was no question about who the stick characters were meant to be. "Let me know if this hurts," he said again, going gently with the tangles as he moved up, finally able to run the brush from root to tip without problems. He conditioned his cousin’s hair and then rinsed it. "There we are. What a good boy you’ve been. Come on, out!" he said, holding a towel out to either side with a hug hiding behind as he waited for Findekáno to jump into his arms.

Almost immediately Fingon was out if the water with a small splash and burrowing into Maedhros’ embrace, shivering. “Brrrrr.” He was cold, but his hair already felt better than it had in a long while. He pressed closer, arms trapped in the large towel surrounding him. “I’m cocooned, Maitimo.”

"That you are!" Maedhros laughed. "Let’s get you dried off," he said, rubbing briskly over his skin, "and then we’ll go into the sunroom and I’ll do your hair. And when you emerge from your cocoon you will be a beautiful butterfly—only the kind without wings and with lovely braided hair," he laughed, scooping Findekáno into his arms and carrying him through the house.

Fingon smiled and snuggled against Maedhros’ chest as they left. He would have been happy to stay there forever, even with the chill that was permeating his damp hair. “You’re really strong,” he informed is cousin. “It’s awesome.”

"I don’t know about _really_ strong,” Maedhros laughed. “It could be just that you’re smaller than I am. Just you wait til you get older and bigger and stronger yourself. If I can lift you then, you can call me strong.” He grinned broadly and sat down in a patch of sun, setting Fingon in his lap and running the brush through his hair again.

Fingon shivered a little and pulled his towel tighter as Maedhros worked with his hair. “What will we do next? Will we take more fondue to Káno and Turko?”

"I might. Next is nap time for you," Maedhros reminded him, beginning to braid his hair tightly enough that it would stay braided for at least the rest of today and tomorrow. It wasn’t really that far to Fingolfin’s house. Surely he could show up every other day to braid Findekáno’s hair and that wouldn’t look weird at all, would it?

"Awwww. I never have to take a nap when we go to grandfather’s to visit. Can I sleep on your bed? Will you sleep next to me?" In many ways Fëanor’s family lived more practically than Fingolfin’s, who had servants take care of the home’s upkeep. Neither Fëanor nor Nerdanel could stand others moving their tools or projects or notes. The family mostly maintained the grounds and Fëanor’s children shared in chores, Maedhros and Maglor helped cook, and they shared the large bathing room. The bath itself, however, and their beds, private quarters, and crafting areas were luxurious.

"That’s because grandfather gets to spoil you. I don’t have that luxury," Maedhros explained. "I have to make you take a bath, make you eat your greens, make you sit still while I braid your hair, make you take a nap, and make you spend time with _just_ me,” he droned on, each activity sounding duller and duller, until he laughed: “I’m not sure why I’m not your _least_ favorite cousin,” he teased, pushing Fingon so that he rested against his knee in the hopes he might drift to sleep while he continued plaiting his hair.

"Nuh-uh." Fingon yawned, interrupting himself. "Your the smartest and the coolest and the nicest and you spend time with me and have adventures with me and you make everything better—even the boring stuff and the evil veg and… everything!" He relaxed against Maedhros, not quite falling asleep but half drifting off as his cousin continued to work.

Maedhros huffed. “Whatever you say,” he said with a smile, and they were silent for a time as he finished off the braids. “So are you asleep, or can you stay awake for a story?” he asked, rubbing his palm across Fingon’s back.

"Uhhhh… not ‘sleep. Yet. Can we climb in bed and read?" Fingon asked, rubbing his eyes. "Love your stories, Russ."

"Sure," he said, his voice going soft, and, "here, I’ve got you," he said, wrapping Fingon back up in his towel and bringing him to his room. He grabbed a favorite book off the shelf and brought them to bed, tucking Fingon up against his side wrapped in the towel and blankets and propped up with pillows. "There, warm enough?"

Fingon reached out to wrap an arm around Maedhros, snuggling against his chest. One hand slipped under Maedhros’ shirt to press against warm skin. “Mhmm. Feels warm and—” he broke off with another yawn, “good. Will you read, please?”

"That tickles!" Maedhros said, removing Fingon’s hand and tucking it between them instead. "Here, you want one with the quest? Where the prince goes to find his princess locked in a tower?"

"The prince with the golden armor and the red banner?" Fingon asked. "Yep, yep, yep." He wiggled closer and relaxed with a sigh. "Do you have golden armor, Russandol?"

"I do not, sorry," Maedhros laughed, and began reading in a quiet, even voice, but not without inflection and different voices for each character.

Fingon grinned, eyelids growing heavier. The prince set out to save his maiden fair with clear, bright eyes and dark flowing hair. He listened as the prince overcame the first obstacles on his quest and met strangers who would help him later. And slowly his eyes slid shut. He drifted off in a bed that felt like they were sitting on a cloud soothed by Maedhros rich voice, warm body, and strong arm wrapped protectively around his shoulder.

When Fingon finally drifted to sleep, Maedhros put the book down but he had neither the heart nor desire to leave. He couldn’t remember the last time he took a nap, but he figured it would be nice. Anyway Fingon was warm and snuggly and he would be lying to himself if he thought he wouldn’t like to have him to hold every night.

 


	6. Chapter 6

When it was time for Fingon to go home, Nerdanel and Anairë found them both fast asleep, Fingon wrapped up in a towel and a blanket and Maedhros’ arm curled around him.

Anairë smiled, leaning her head on her sister in law’s shoulder as they stood in the doorway. “They’re darlings, aren’t they,” she whispered with a grin. Nerdanel nodded and moved into the room, pulling a blanket up from the foot of the bed and draping it over Maedhros and Fingon before slipping back to the doorway.

"I should draw them like that. Maitimo has been the greatest blessing with Macalaurë and Tyelkormo. Huan, too," she added with a laugh. She carefully closed the door. "Can you bear to wake them? Or should we let Findekáno stay here for the evening? I’m sure Maitimo would volunteer to return him to you tomorrow." She giggled. "Well, I’m sure he’d be happy to keep him, but he’d be willing to bring him home."

Anairë laughed lightly. “Of course he can stay. I’d hate to take the choice away from him, though, just in case he wants to go home.” Not that she thought he would. Fingon was not a clingy child, unless it were with Maedhros. “If I would not be intruding, I would love a cup of tea.” 

Nerdanel laughed lightly. “Was it not I who invited the two of you over? You’ve been gracious enough to come keep me company for a day while my husband is out of town and my current projects are at a few… delicate and rather slow stages.”  She linked their arms and led them into the kitchen, which still smelled lightly of chocolate and broth. “And I’m glad to have a little female company,” she added with a grin, pulling out a series of jars. “Hmm… would you like an herbal tea? Or a mint tea? Something heavier to stay awake, or something soft and delicate?”

"Mint tea would be lovely," she said, patting her swollen belly. "I really love your latest pieces. Oh remind me to get Maitimo’s sizes from you: I’m making him and Findekáno matching tunics for Findekáno’s begetting day—he asked for it," she said with a light blush. "But what can I do but encourage such a friendship?"

Nerdanel smiled. “I think it has been, is, and will be very good for both of them.” She smiled wryly. “Maitimo has a good head on his shoulders, but my son is in many ways… older than he should be. He was independent from a very young age, creative and focused and his father and I encouraged that in him.” She set water on to boil and pulled mugs from the cupboard. “He is brilliant—I say that with bias, but he is, and he has always wanted to help his family. He adores his brothers, would do anything for them, and it is both wonderful and a little frightening. He loves them, and clearly enjoys spending time with them though I fear he already works to hard and forgets to take time for himself. With Findekáno it is different… Maitimo’s shoulders are more relaxed with him than at any other time except, perhaps, while he is curled up by the fire reading.” She smiled at Anairë as she joined her and they let their tea steep. “Thank you for letting him steal your son away from time to time. I think it does both of them a world of good.”

Anairë laughed. “Thank you! Maitimo inspires the best in Findekáno and always has. He’s a perfect angel of course, but he’s strong willed and has little discipline—perhaps they all are at that age—but Maitimo has a way with him neither his father nor I can manage. I also think Maitimo will be a good model for Findekáno as an older brother.” She sipped her tea demurely.

Nerdanel blushed. “Stop that!” She nudged Anairë’s arm playfully. “That’s hardly fair. I’m busy trying to demonstrate how wonderful your son is and your going and turning the tables on me!” She grinned. “I do think they are a lovely match. And if I may hazard a guess, they will grow up close friend and nigh on inseparable. Not that I would complain about that—in fact, I find it rather comforting. And I’m certain Findekáno will be an amazing older brother. I know my two eldest both took to the position quite happily.”

"I shall rely on Maitimo if he does not," she grinned. "Yes, by our combined friendships," she took Nerdanel’s hand, "we might even overrule our stubborn husbands."

“Someday,” Nerdanel sighed, rolling her eyes, “someday they will manage to agree on something. And I have a strong feeling it may be in some way related to their children actually getting along.” She sipped at her tea. “I should check on Makalaurë and Tyelkormo when we’re finished with out tea—not that I don’t trust Kano, it’s more that I ought to offer to relieve him if he’s too exhausted. And make sure Huan is left alone to get some rest. Would you care to join me, or I can show you to a sitting room where we can relax until our eldest wake?”

"I’ll come with you. I’m not an invalid yet," she said, taking her tea with her as she followed Nerdanel out.

Hearing laughter, Maedhros opened his eyes. Fingon was still fast asleep, so he shifted out from under him (Fingon snuggled into the warm spot he left) and followed the sounds of voices. He grabbed his shirt on the way and checked the state of Fingon’s clothes. “Amil?” He said, blinking into the light.

“Awake are you, arimelda?” Nerdanel leaned down to kiss his brow gently. “Is Findekáno still sleeping?”

He nodded, blushing at  his mother’s attention. “Yes. Sorry, I didn’t mean to sleep. Whoa, hullo!” He said as Maglor dumped Celegorm into his arms.

"He nearly broke my harp this time," he complained.

“Tyelkormo,” Nerdanel scolded, “what are you supposed to do with other peoples things?”

“Look.” The word came sullenly from Maedhros’ arms. “Don’t touch.”

Nerdanel sighed and looked over at Anairë in slight exasperation. This is what you have to look forward to, her expression warned.

"Maglor can show you if you can be gentle, Tyelko," Maedhros said, pulling his brother’s fist from his mouth. "Or did you just want something to dance to?"

Celegorm nodded.

"Kanafinwë likes to play for you when you ask nicely."

"Otaaayyy," Celegorm agreed.

"What do you say you and Huan take your nap now?" Nerdanel suggested, running a hand through Celegorm’s silver hair. "Maitimo, will you take him—?" She continued, but Celegorm opened his mouth to protest.

"Ey," Maedhros shook him gently. "What do we say to amil?"

"Yes, amil," Celegorm said forlornly, though he was squirming and whining.

"Come on, Tyelko, look, pup is tired, too," Maedhros pointed out. "Come on, Huan," Maedhros said, stepping out again.

“I really don’t know what I would do without him,” Nerdanel said to Anairë quietly. “Kano, thank you for looking after Tyelko. We’ll keep working with him on looking but not touching.”

“Of course. If you don’t mind, I’m going to clean up the room we were in and get back to practicing. Amil, aunt.” He left, and Nerdanel turned back to Anairë.

“Perhaps we should head to a sitting room now? I’ll grab the tea pot if you want to head to the front room that opens onto the porch.”

Maedhros laid Celegorm down, and though there was some fussing, it stopped when Huan joined him, and he was asleep by the time Maedhros finished the tune he was humming his brother to sleep with. He checked on Fingon briefly before taking his lesson book out to the porch to sit with his mother and aunt, who were already there. Anairë had her embroidery in her lap. Nerdanel reached out to squeeze his arm in thanks.

"Well," Anairë asked, continuing to work, “what sort of adventures did the two of you get up to today? We know Kano and Turko had a fairly quiet day while Kano worked on his music."

Maedhros closed his book: he wasn’t excited about practicing his calligraphy. “We had cheese fondue. He ate three pieces of broccoli, two cauliflower, and five peppers, dipped in cheese, of course, but he seems to be doing better. And then he ate me out of house and mushroom, but that’s about normal,” he joked. “Then we went down to play by the willow, got our feet wet, and returned for chocolate fondue. Um, then I gave him a bath and brushed his hair out. The braids I put in should stay for a few days. And no, amil, I haven’t done the dishes yet, but I will,” he said sullenly.

"I’ll take care of the dishes if you take care of dinner this evening," his mother offered. She smiled mischievously, "we may have company for the night."

Maedhros brightened. “Are you and Finno staying for dinner, Auntie?” Maedhros asked.

Anairë smiled: “Well, I was planning on going home—but if you’re offering—” she laughed. “And Findekáno could stay the night if he liked.”

"Oh! That would be fun, yes," Maedhros replied, trying not to sound too excited.

The women shared a smile. “You’ll have to see if you can talk Findekáno into staying for the night,” Nerdanel added. “And you would have to take him home tomorrow.”

"Of course," Maedhros said, referring to his ability to convince Fingon to stay over, but, "what time would you want him home?" He asked to throw suspicion off him.

"Anytime before dinner would be acceptable." Anairë smiled. "Whenever you’d like him out of your hair."

Maedhros couldn’t imagine such a time, unless he was working on his lessons for father and needed to focus, but even then he knew he could perhaps plan them around Fingon’s naps. “Okay, sure. That would be fun,” he said. “I did just wash his clothes, so he’ll have something to wear tomorrow. He can wear one of Tyelko’s shirts in the meantime.”


	7. Chapter 7

Fingon rolled over, wriggling and tossing the towel and blanket off.He shifted fully onto his stomach and planted his face in the center ofMaedhros’ pillow. “Russ?” No one was in the room when he lookedaround. Slipping out of bed he pulled a chair over, next to the wardrobe.Climbing onto the chair and onto his tiptoes he opened the latch on Maedhros’wardrobe and tugged down a large, crimson shirt. He was almost swimming in it as he wandered into the hall, yawning and hoping to stumble across his favorite cousin.

"…Or he can wear one of yours," Nerdanel pointed out as Fingon wandered in, rubbing his eyes and looking around him sleepily. "Hello, darling," she said, pulling him into her lap. "How was your nap?"

"Comfy," Fingon answered, curling up contentedly. "Russ’ bed’s comfy and Russ is even comfier." He looked around. "I borrowed your shirt, Russ," he added unnecessarily. "It’s super soft."

"That’s all right, Findekáno," Maedhros said. "Hey how would you like to stay the night? Your amil said it was okay."

"Really?" Fingon’s eyes widened and he smiled broadly. "Please, please, please, I’d love to! Can I stay with you, Russ?"

Nerdanel laughed as her nephew bounced on her lap. “We’d love to have you,” she whispered, hugging him and pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “What lovely braids you have!”

"Russandol did them!" Fingon explained happily. He reached up to feel the braids from the top of his head to the bottom of his hair. "They’ll help protect me from untanglement!"

Maedhros laughed: “We could have lots of fun, Finno. I’d be glad to have you. Maybe we could go for a ride tomorrow, or see what Kano and Tyelko want to do.” Turning to Anairë: “I would love to cook for you if you stayed for dinner, auntie,” he said. “What could I make to tempt you?”

"I always enjoy your cooking," Anairë said with a smile. "You’re quite talented, Maitimo. Perhaps some cauliflower with that butter and bread crumb sauce you’ve made before," she added, hoping to see Fingon willingly eat vegetables.

"How about that, Finno?" Maedhros asked. "Veg with sauce. You think you can handle that?" He held his arms out to Fingon. "You want to help me out?"

Fingon jumped off of his aunt’s lap and made his way into Maedhros’ arms. He shrugged, and looked up at his cousin. “I’ll help!” His nose had wrinkled slightly at the thought of more vegetables, but cooking with Maedhros made up for it—he got to spend more time with Maedhros and if his cousin made a pastry or cookies or cake or brownies for desert he would get to lick the bowl.

"Come on, you were so good earlier. You can help me make sure it’s yummy," he said, letting Fingon hang from his neck while he tied the shirt between his legs for decency’s sake.

Fingon nodded, clinging to Maedhros and letting the older Elda do as he wished with the purloined shirt. “When do we need to cook?” he asked. “Can we make a dessert, too?”

"We can cook now if you want to. And you can pick the dessert, how does that sound?" Maedhros said, now holding Fingon up. "Ladies," he bowed, retreating with his little cousin in tow.

Fingon nodded against his neck, letting his cousin carry them away. “Thanks for sleeping with me,” he whispered. “And for letting me sleep on your bed right in the middle! It’s huge and soft and comfy and your room stays nice and warm and it’s really, really nice.” He squeezed Maedhros’ tightly. “What should we do for dessert?” he asked. “Something with choc-o-late? Cake or brownies or cookies or sundaes?”

"I told you, you get to pick," Maedhros grinned, dressing Fingon in his small apron and this time pulling a chair so they could stand side by side. "We could start with dessert if you want, so that supper is fresh when we make it. Would you like a cake? We could decorate it together. Or fudgy brownies? Or choc-o-late chip cookies? We could decorate any of those, come to think of it."

"Hmmm." Fingon bounced as he thought. "Could we make marbly cake for Auntie Nerdanel, with choc-o-late frosting and extra choc-o-late shaved on top?” He looked up to see if his idea would meet with Maedhros’ approval. “And we could have hot drinks with mallows to go with it.”

"Marble cake?" Maedhros hummed and chuckled. "You like to start off at the top with the hardest thing, don’t you?" he teased. "But all right. Marble cake with chocolate frosting, and perhaps a bit of chocolate on top as garnish. And—you mean hot chocolate? You don’t think that’s too much chocolate?" he double-checked. "Not that it’s a bad thing. We can have that."

Fingon shook his head quickly. “Nope! No such thing as too much choc-o-late. If it’s okay with you.” He looked around. “Do you want me to do stirring? And when it’s ready we can lick the spat-u-la and bowl!”

"Yes. You will be in charge of stirring," Maedhros said, getting down two bowls and two spoons, one for yellow cake and one for chocolate, and began emptying ingredients into each over Fingon’s head.

"Stir now?" Fingon asked. He held the bowl steady with one hand and began moving the spoon slowly and awkwardly, beginning to mix the ingredients. The spoon slipped once, throwing up a bit of white powder. "Stirring’s hard," he told Maedhros, grinning with a small bit of flour stuck to his nose.

Maedhros kissed the floured nose and laughed. “Agreed! But you’re strong. Do it as long as you can and then I can help,” he offered, getting the oven heating.

Fingon continued to stir, eyes straying to watch what Maedhros was working on. “What will we do next, Russ? There’s more for dinner than veg, right?” The last was asked in a nervous voice. Even if Maedhros’ vegetables were better than most people’s, they did not, in Fingon’s opinion, constitute a whole meal. Especially if he would be required to eat the majority of the food on his plate before moving on to a marbled chocolatey dessert.

"Well—what would you like to have? What do we think might go well with the butter and bread crumb sauce and cauliflower your mother suggested?" Maedhros tested his kitchen pupil, coming up behind him to help stir the yellow cake batter, which had gotten much less attention.

"Meat," Fingon responded quickly. "Um… steak? Tenderloin, perhaps?" He shrugged. "Or lamb would be good. With lots of herbiness. Will we have a salad first, or soup?"

"Agreed, lots of herbiness. How about lamb—so we’ll use sweet herbs like mint and sage and lavender? And what if we make a sort of rice pilaf with bits of cauliflower and broccoli in it? And we flavor that with the butter and bread crumb sauce. Does that sound like something you could manage to eat?"

"Mhmm. ‘Specially the lamb." Fingon peered into the bowl he was working with. "I think it’s mostly mixed, Russ. Can you check?"

Grinning, Maedhros peered over his shoulder and gave each of the bowls a quick stir. “Looks great! Excellent job. I should hire you on as my official assistant,” he said, readying a round dish for the cake. “All right. Let me do this part and then I’ll have you marble it,” Maedhros said, pouring first the yellow cake in, and then pouring the chocolate in in a more or less spiral shape. “Okay,” he said, setting those aside and sliding the dish to Fingon. “I want you to drag this spoon through the batter and make me some pretty designs.”

Fingon held the spoon with both hands and dragged it through several times, mingling the batters in an abstract series of swirls. “Ready!” He said excitedly. “Cake, cake, cake!”

"Cake cake cake," Maedhros chanted along with his cousin as he guided the dish into the oven. "All right," he said. "Just enough time to lick the bowls clean before we start on dinner."

Clapping in excitement, Fingon helped scrape one wooden spoon along the inside of the bowl before sucking on it happily. “’s delicious!”

"Now don’t eat too much," Maedhros warned, "or you’ll make yourself sick, and not be able to eat dinner and therefore won’t be able to eat dessert!" Once the bowls were cleanish Maedhros set them in the sink and began getting out the things they would need to get the lamb cooking.

“Why do we even cook cake?” Fingon asked as he stuck a finger in the bowl trying to get a little more batter, and mixing it with batter from the second bowl. “It’s so good before you bake it. You could have cake soup!”

"Well, eating too much batter will make you sick," Maedhros explained. "And I think cake soup would be a little rich. You could thin it out to a broth—but then that’s just hot chocolate! Here," he said, putting two large heads of broccoli and two of cauliflower into a collander. "Wash these for me," he said, sliding Fingon’s chair over to the sink.

Fingon rinsed them off for a few minutes, leaning forward to sniff at the cauliflower curiously. “Want me to break them up, Russ?”

"I was going to chop them, but if you’d like to break them, go ahead," Maedhros said from where he was slicing the lamb to marinade.

“Alright!” They broke easily, and Fingon worked on creating bite size pieces of the flowers. There was something incredibly satisfying about the crack as his two nemeses broke apart into more manageable sizes. “Crunch!” Fingon tasted the top of a piece of broccoli. “Not as bad as the mush,” he whispered, beginning to work on the cauliflower.

Maedhros bit his lip not to laugh at Fingon’s antics, and instead focused on his task, before laying the strips of meat into a dish. “All right. What kind of spices did we want in the lamb?” he asked.

“Umm… Rosemary and oregano? Time, sage, basil, parsley? What else, do you think?” Fingon bit his lip, thinking. “I don’t remember what else you put with lamb.”

"Good! I said a few others," Maedhros reminded him, testing his memory, as he pulled out mint and lavender out of the spice cupboard.

“Marg—no, wait—lavender!” Fingon said triumphantly. “And… pineapple mint and regular mint… um… ah… I forget the last one,” he whispered.

"Sounds all right to me!" Maedhros chuckled, sliding Fingon’s chair over beside him, and began dumping in spices willy-nilly. Maedhros was generally precise about everything—except with cooking, where he liked to have fun. "How much mint, do you think?" he asked, holding the jar out to Fingon so he could reach inside.

Fingon took out a pinch, and sprinkled it over the meat. “Wait! A little more?” he suggested as Maedhros began to withdraw the jar. “Maybe, um… like this?” He pulled a liberal handful out and, at his cousin’s nod, began to adding it to the meat evenly.

"Great job!" Maedhros said proudly, "—though maybe lets hold some back," he added, helping Fingon dump the extra leaves back into the jar. "All right, a bit of oil, put the lid on it, and put it in the oven," he said, having Fingon help him by opening the door (the household had two ovens, luckily). "All right! Now for the rice."

Fingon almost skipped back to the counter, glowing with Maedhros’ approval. “What should go in the rice? More herbs?”

"Sure!" Maedhros beamed, helping Fingon back up onto his chair. "Well we’re going to make the sauce to mix in it. And broccoli and cauliflower are going in. So what would be good with butter and garlic and some veg?"

“Sage?” Fingon considered his answer carefully. “Sage and parsley,” he said. “And maybe some red and yellow peppers for color?”

Maedhros blinked: /more/ vegetables? Had Findekáno Poldórëa Nolofwinwion actually just asked him for more vegatables? Not wanting to miss the opportunity, and not wanting to make anything big of it, Maedhros beamed and clapped him on the back. “Wow, yum! That sounds excellent. You put the sage and parsely in a bowl, I’ll cut the peppers. Big pieces or small ones?”

“Little bright bits that’ll still fit on your fork,” Fingon suggested. “So they’re colorful surprises, like when you cut into the choc-o-late covered cake and it’s marble inside!”

"Findekáno, you will make an excellent chef because of your thoughtfulness and attention to detail—and your sense of fun! Of course that is what we must do!" he said, happily chopping away. "And when you’re done with that, could you get me the butter from the pantry?"

Holding the jars to his chest, Fingon fastened the tops. His tongue poked out as he worked until he managed to place the secured jars back on the counter. Then he went to grab the butter Maedhros had requested. “It looks pretty,” Fingon told him, glancing at the bright mix of peppers.

"And yummy. You like these raw, right?" Maedhros asked, grabbing a small piece and holding it out for Fingon like a baby bird. "We’ll add all the veggies at the end so they’re barely cooked." He measured out the rice and the water next, with Fingon’s help, and put it on to boil. "Now for the sauce."

Fingon grinned and nodded his approval quickly. “I’ve got the butter!” He held it up. “What else goes in the sauce?”

"Garlic. You like garlic, right? Oh, here’s a fun job for you—" Maedhros rummaged in the bread box until he found the old dried stale bits and wrapped them in a towel. "I need you to whack that with your fist—flat, like this, so you don’t hurt yourself. Go to town on that."

After the first thump Fingon giggled. He continued to laugh as he pounded on the bread, listening to the crunching as it broke apart under his hand. “Cooking with you is fun, Russandol. Can we do this more often?”

"Absolutely!" Maedhros said, grinning. "I’m having fun with you, too. Any time, as often as you like. Whenever I’m cooking, I would always love to have you, even just keeping me company. All right, here we go, into the pan—" he slid the butter and garlic in together, as well as some of the spices.

Fingon bounced between his heels and toes. “I might be over all the time, then,” he warned. “But I’ll help out if you show me how. Rice and veg and sauce and lamb and cake is in the oven. Is that everything?”

"Yes, just about: we’ll make the sauce, add the rice when it’s almost done, and then add the veg until it’s lightly cooked. And by then the lamb should be done. What would you like to do for—oh, half an hour or so?" he asked, picking Fingon up in his arms, simply because he liked holding his cousin.

Arms wound around Maedhros’ neck, Fingon looked up at him. “Would you like to read with me?” he asked. “We could read anything—even one of your study books, if you want.” He tucked himself close to Maedhros. “I might not know all the words in those, though.”

"Oh, we can read something more fun than that. I would like to hear you read to me, in fact," Maedhros said, carrying Fingon to the table and grabbing a picture book with only some words. "Tyelko’s still having trouble with this one, but I bet you can get it, on account of you’re older," he said, sitting Fingon down on his lap and the book in front of them.

Fingon held the book reverently, determined to read well for Maedhros. He read the title and sounded out the author’s name carefully before opening the book to the first page. He glanced back at Maedhros and then studied the book as he began to read, looking at the pictures after he finished the words on each page.

"Excellent," Maedhros praised, squeezing Fingon gently. "You are so very clever. Please go on. What’s here in the pictures?"

"Cuivienen and stars! And huge mountains everyone will pass over!” Fingon grinned. “And there’s the Sickle in the north! We’ve seen that!”

"Indeed! Beautiful," Maedhros said, pressing a kiss to Fingon’s brow.

Fingon turned the page to read about Tol Eressea and the geography of the island, and then about Taniquetil. Each page contained maps and illustrations that he ran his fingers across reverently, pointing out the interesting spots with his cousin. He leaned back as they continued to read, resting comfortably against Maedhros’ warm frame.

"All right, one more page," Maedhros said, as they came to the section that introduced the Valar. "Then we have to go check on our rice and make our sauce."

Fingon finished quickly and grinned. “Food! And we have to decorate the cake and maybe add more herbs to the lamb!”

"Yes, yes," Maedhros said, stirring the rice. "All right, it needs a moment. Let’s check on the lamb—stand back," he said as he opened the oven and poked at the steaming dish. "I think it still needs another twenty minutes or so. How does it smell?"

"Delicious!" Fingon answered emphatically, ready to take a bite then and there if Maedhros called on him to test it. "Can we cut a couple pieces of rosemary from the garden and lay them over it for the last few minutes?"

"Sure! That sounds lovely—and I’ve already got some here," he said. "I was going to pull it apart: do you think two big sprigs would be better?" he asked, pulling Fingon close to keep him from the hot pan.

"Maybe four?" Fingon compromised, suggesting they break each sprig. "Since we already added some earlier." Fingon peered onto the pan, inhaling deeply.

"All right, keep back, or it’ll burn your eyebrows off," Maedhros teased, dropping the rosemary sprigs in and re-covering it. A ding reminded him the cake was done in the other oven, and he pulled it out to cool. "All right, sorry. Let’s take care of that rice," he said, sliding it off the heat and turning back, finally, to his sauce, pulling a chair up for Fingon to climb onto. "See we melt the butter, then put the garlic in, stir it around, and add the bread crumbs at the end."

"Mmm. Smells like choc-o-late!" Fingon left the cake and climbed up to help Maedhros with the rice. "What can I do?" Fingon asked, watching as Maedhros stirred the butter and garlic.

"Well, I’m going to leave you to stir this, all right? And I’ll need you to stir it evenly while I put the breadcrumbs in," he said, shaking them over the pan, "and then I’ll put the veggies in and we’ll kind of sautee those for a bit," he said, now helping Fingon to stir the pan more vigorously.

"It smells good," Fingon praised, stomach rumbling a little. "And then they’re done? And we decorate the cake?"

"Just about. We’ll mix the rice and the veg together with the sauce and let the flavors meld while we wait for the lamb—would you mind waiting until after dinner to decorate the cake? I"m not sure it’s cool yet. But we can make up the icing. What color icing would we like?"

Fingon nodded. “Could we marble the icing, too? With choc-o-late and vanilla?” He thought for a minute. “Perhaps when it goes on we could even add some gold veins running through it?”

"Are we making a mountain, then?" Maedhros asked, whisking up chocolate and vanilla sugar frostings and taking out the Special Occasions Only gold leaf to mix a small pot of this as well. "With gold in it? Maybe we could make the vanilla the snow on top?"

"Mhmm! I like that," Fingon said. "And maybe a little dark coloring so the choc-o-late is both brown and black for rocks and terrain?" He nodded quickly, hands waving as he spoke.

Maedhros laughed out loud, that time, but he couldn’t help it: Fingon was just so cute! “Yes exactly like that,” he assured him, putting the cake and the icing away to decorate later. “Come on, let’s set the table,” he said, lifting Fingon into his arms.

Fingon squirmed, kissing Maedhros’ cheek. “I’ll do napkins,” he offered. “Do you think our moms will like the lamb and rice? And Kano and Turko and… well, maybe not Huan. Should we make him something special for dinner?”

"He has his own food," Maedhros explained. "And yes, I certainly hope they like it. Tyelko especially loves lamb." He followed Fingon around, laying silverware out on the napkins he set down.

“What next? Could we look at your book of maps? Or go through the garden and you can help me learn more of the herbs?” Fingon placed the last napkin with a flourish, waiting to hear what new adventure or entertainment Maedhros would suggest.

"Maybe after supper—or tomorrow," Maedhros said. "Now I need you to help me with the most important job."

Fingon’s eyes widened. “What’s that?”

"Go tell everyone that supper is ready!" he said, readying the rice.

“Will do!” Fingon ran over to Maedhros and hugged him before bouncing out the door and down the hall, searching for his mother and his aunt. “Dinner!” he called out in excitement, his voice bouncing off the walls.

Maglor emerged, sniffed the air, and retreated, reemerging with a bright-eyed Celegorm in his arms and a sleepy-looking Huan following. “Smells good,” he said.

"Thanks. Finno helped," Maedhros answered. "Hey, Tyelko, how was your nap?" he asked, rubbing his back. "Hey, go let Huan out while we eat, huh? You want Kano to help you?"

Celegorm nodded, and he and Maglor stepped outside just as Fingon raced back, with Anairë and Nerdanel in tow. Meanwhile, Maedhros had finished setting the table: and the lamb waited along with the rice and veggie pilaf.

Anairë smiled at Fingon and at Maedhros. “Everything looks, and smells delicious. Were you Russ’ assistant for dinner, Findekáno?”

Fingon nodded. “I helped with mixing and carrying and grabbing things and I got to lick the bowl!”

"Findekáno was a co-chef," Maedhros corrected. "He helped me concieve of the dishes before you. You might even say I helped him.” He grinned and pushed Fingon’s seat in and took his place next to him. Nerdanel took Celegorm from Maglor and fed him from her plate. Maedhros helped Fingon to serve himself what he thought he would eat and passed the dishes down.

Fingon flushed with his cousin’s praise, shaking his head slightly. “I thought of putting the peppers in the rice,” he admitted. “But it’s Russ’ recipe. And he had to help with the hard stirring and doing things over the flames or in the oven. And we worked on a dessert, but it’s not finished yet.”

"We’ll work on it right after we eat," Maedhros said, patting Fingon on the back. 

"It looks wonderful," Nerdanel said.

"And tastes even better," Anairë added.

"Yeah, it’s good," Maglor said, "thanks, Finno; thanks, Russ."

Celegorm was shoving it into his face indiscriminately with both hands, and crying when his plate ran out.

Fingon grinned widely at Maedhros. It was, while inarticulate, the best compliment they could have gotten from Celegorm. “Welcome!” he told Maglor. “How is composing?”

Maglor shrugged. “I’m working on a lullaby, and using Tyelko as my test subject. So…we’ll see around bedtime?” he said bashfully.

“I bet it’s wonderful!” Fingon glanced at Celegorm as Nerdanel refilled his plate. “Even if he doesn’t seem all that soothed yet. But that’s prob’ly just ‘cause he’s hungry.” Finogn took another bite himself, even working his way through the pilaf. It fortunately had enough tastes and textures to minimize how much he noticed the presence of his food nemeses.

Smiling softly at Fingon’s chattiness, Maedhros watched him eat the rice and the vegetables without complaint. To be fair they were soaked in butter and garlic, which to his mind could make dirt taste good, but still, it was a big step—and when he finished his plate entirely, Maedhros was even more impressed.


	8. Chapter 8

When they were both finished, Maedhros scooped Fingon into his arms.”Amil said she would do dishes and we need to go decorate the cake bye!” he shouted, laughing and scurrying off with Fingon in tow

Fingon giggled, clinging to him as they escaped to work on the cake. “Don’t forget the extra choc-o-late to shave and put curly bits on top. It’ll add te- tex- it’ll add tex—” he broke off and look up at Maedhros for help.

"Texture?" Maedhros finished, setting Fingon down so he could get the cake and bring it to a low table. "All right. Do you want to start?" he asked, setting out flat sticks and the dark and brown icing.

“We should both cover it, otherwise it might take too long,” Fingon suggested. “Will you help in a minute?” Fingon dipped a stick in the icing, tongue poking out as he began applying the icing. He was, if anything, too much of a perfectionist at the moment trying to get a perfectly even layer of frosting around the sides of the cake and going over small areas again and again to try to level them.

Maedhros started in on the other side, sliding in next to Fingon when his half was done. “You’re doing a great job, Finno,” he said, “but we can go a bit faster. It doesn’t need to be perfect—that will give it texture!”

“I’ll try,” Fingon said hesitantly. He began working at a faster pace, moving around to cover a second edge with brown frosting. He peeked at Maedhros’ work, which seemed more even in its unevenness and did have a wonderful texture to it.

"Great, good job," he said, evening out a few places and mussing others as Fingon worked and the whole cake was covered. "All right, now the snow…" He set the white frosting in front of Fingon and got a big spoonful for himself. "Start at the top and blend it down, I think," he said, watching Fingon more closely this time.

Fingon scooped out more frosting and began working it across the cake. “Cake art is fun. We get to eat it after which makes it even better.” He glanced at Maedhros. “I’m full, though. Are you? I really, really liked the lamb. And the rice, with surprise peppers.”

"I think we’ll wait a while to actually eat the cake," Maedhros agreed. "And I’m very proud of you for eating everything on your plate. I think you made your amil very happy, too,” he said, kissing Fingon on the top of his head.

Fingon nodded, continuing to work on his art project. “What do you think?” he asked as he stopped to add more frosting. “Is there enough texture?”

"There is plenty of texture," Maedhros said. "The snow looks highly realistic. I think we’re doing a great job," he told Fingon, lifting him and setting him in his own lap just to have him close (and also to get him closer to the cake so he wouldn’t have to reach. When they were done he brought out a block of dark chocolate and gave Fingon the cheese slicer. "All right, pull this toward you and we’ll make some shavings."

Holding it with both hands, Fingon pulled on the slicer and began to create the small shaved pieces he wanted. He created a sizable pile that could be added throughout their mountain scene. “Do you think we should try a bite first?”

"Of the chocolate?" Maedhros grinned. "I thought you said you were full!" he laughed.

“Just a bite,” Fingon suggested. “I am full. Aren’t you? But a little bit wouldn’t hurt. Just to see if it tastes how it looks.”

"It is your cake, and your chocolate. You may eat as much as you like," Maedhros told him, giving him a gentle squeeze. "But maybe just a bit of the chocolate? So we don’t destroy the cake. Unless—unless you’d like to give it a cave?" As soon as he said it he couldn’t believe he suggested it. Fingon could get any little thing out of him without even asking for it.

“Caves are exciting.” Fingon nodded agreeably, poking a small hole into the side of their mountain. “Yum! Will you try a little too, and help make the cave?”

"Yes, but here, stop that," Maedhros said, pulling Fingon’s hand back. "Let’s at least be civil about our culinary excavation." Carefully he stabbed the cake with a knife, hollowing out an even cave and sliding the pieces of cake over to Fingon.

“Sorry. It was a prelim’nary dig,” Fingon said. “You’re scooping out lots! We get to eat it? Or, maybe we can use some cakey bits to add more texture?” He studied their mountain. “What do you think we should do?”

“Not really lots,” Maedhros protested. “We can eat as much of this as we like. I’m not sure how I would like it on top, texture or no,” he added skeptically. He did take some more black icing and fill in the cave.

Fingon ate an excavated piece of cake with a grin. “It’s really, really good!” He looked down at their creation. “Even better with frosting!”

"Well, of course it’s good," Maedhros said. "I had an expert in chocolate helping me make it." He jogged Fingon’s elbow companionably. "Now let’s put it away until it’s time for dessert. "Hey I bet your amil and my amil would like some tea after supper. Let’s make some!"

"Can we do mint tea, please?" Fingon suggested. "Or maybe a blooming tea?"

"Ooh, let’s do a blooming tea," Maedhros said. "That would be fun." He pulled one of the handcrafted blooms from a jar of ten of them, and put it in a clear teapot, and then set water on to boil. In the meantime he sat Fingon on the counter so they were eye-to-eye. "Thanks for helping me with supper and cake, Finno," he said. "Did you have fun?"

Bouncing his legs without thinking, Fingon nodded. “I like cooking with you and everything tasted good!” His legs continued to swing. “And dessert was fun and will taste good too!”

"Agreed! Can I have a hug?" He asked, "To commemorate our kitchen victory?"

"Yes!" Fingon stretched his arms wide. "Victory!" He called as he was caught in his cousin’s warm embrace.

Maedhros didn’t want to stop hugging his cousin, and Fingon didn’t seem to want to stop, either, so he lifted him and held him in his arms while they waited for the tea to boil. “You know, gold is a good color on you,” he commented, playing at the shirt and trying to roll the sleeves up (it was, of course, covered in what they had had for supper).

"Gold and red and blue! And gold and red for you." Fingon grinned and kissed Maedhros’ cheek sloppily, squeezing his arms around his cousin’s neck.

"Well I should wear blue, too, so that we match," Maedhros pointed out, nearly melting into the sloppy, tickly kiss. "Oh, there’s the water," he said, "half a moment," and somehow managed to pour the hot water one-handed into the teapot so they could watch their tea flower bloom. Also one-handed, Maedhros put together a tray with teacups for all, and sugar. "All right, you’ll have to get on my back so I can carry this," he said, helping Fingon to crawl monkey-like around him.

Clinging to his cousin tightly, Fingon watched over Maedhros’ shoulder as they made their way down the hall to the sitting room their mothers had occupied earlier. “The tea smells good and flowery,” Fingon told his cousin. He giggled as Maedhros pretended to have to duck low to get through the doorway. “We brought tea!” Fingon grinned, catching sight of his mother and aunt.

Maedhros fake-choked, “All right, not so excited, you’re strangling me,” he said, leaning forward to take the pressure off his neck as he set the tray down and wrestled Fingon in front of him again. “Findekáno picked the tea out. Where are Kano and Tyelko?”

"Kano is helping Tyelko feed Huan," Nerdanel said. "And thank you, Findekáno, and thank you, Maitimo, for bringing us tea. I was just about to get us some."

"Welcome! It was fun," Fingon explained. "Russandol picked out a flower and then

we got to watch it bloom!” He looked up at his cousin. “Are we drinking tea too?”

"I was going to. Would you like some?" Maedhros asked, setting a cup in front of him and offering to pour. "This is a sweet yummy tea. Or would you like to try mine first?"

Fingon was sure he would want his own tea, but he wouldn’t turn down trying his cousin’s. “May I have a sip of yours?” he asked. “And then maybe a cup of my own?”

Biting his lip to keep from laughing, Maedhros pushed his cup over to Fingon to taste, and set the pot down. “You can just share mine if you like.”

Anairë laughed quietly as she watched her son nodding quickly. “He always wants to have his own cup and his own plate at home—he wants to be as grown up as possible.”

“Not when my son is around,” Nerdanel commented with a small smile.

“No. Findekáno almost believes your eldest lit the stars. I’m afraid he’ll be trailing after him for some time. Nelyo really has been a blessing—he’s so gentle and patient with the younger ones.” She moved to a sofa near the table where Maedhros was setting up the tea. “What kind of tea did the two of you make?”

"It’s some sort of flowery herbal tea," Maedhros said, trying to ignore his mother and aunt talking about them so. He refilled his cup so there was enough for Fingon to share. "And we finished the cake. So whenever we are hungry again, there is that."

“It’s a mountain and it’s choc-o-laty and yummy with surprises inside!” Fingon began gesturing expansively as he spoke about their delicious cake. “And Russ helped me decorate it and add texture and colors and a cave!”

Maedhros grinned. “We might have gotten a little carried away,” he laughed. “But we were having fun.”

"Did I hear something about cake?" Maglor asked, returning with a toddler and puppy at his heels. "When do we get cake, brother dear?"

Celegorm ran at him and attacked his thighs. “Cake! Cake! Cake!” he pleaded. Huan yipped at his heels.

“Tea first!” Fingon suggested, looking up at Maedhros. “Do we have cups for Kano and Turko?”

"Yes," Maedhros said, pulling Celegorm up onto his other knee as Maglor poured tea.

"Cup cup cup!" Celegorm said happily, sipping his tea and spilling the rest. "Mai-mo, Huan ated all his foods I t’ink he still hung-y! Can he have cake too?"

Maedhros squeezed him. “No, I think cake isn’t good for dogs. Might make him sick.”

Fingon tugged Maedhros’ sleeve gently when his cousin finished talking to Celegorm. “May I try your tea?” he asked from where he was pressed against Maedhros’ side.

"You may have as much as you like, Finno," Maedhros said, juggling the two children on his lap with an air of one who was pretending to be exasperated but was really pleased to be in such high demand. "Would you mind holding it up to my lips so I may have some, too, Fin?" he asked with a smile as Fingon went to set the cup down.

Holding it carefully Fingon turned himself to watch as he placed the tea to Maedhros’ lips. “Good?” he asked as his cousin took a sip. Fingon stole another taste directly after him. “Do you want more?”

"I’m good for now, thank you, Finno," he said. "Although, hang on." He let go his arm around Fingon and poured more tea for his brother and cousin, and Celegorm happily sipped his. "The tea should help Tyelko S-L-E-E-P," he said casually to his mother as his youngest brother guzzled the drink down.

"Well, then we’d better have the cake pretty soon," Nerdanel said.

"Also, Nolo will be wondering where I am," Anairë said. "I stayed longer than I should have. But we were having such fun!"

"Finno and I can get the cake," Maedhros offered, standing and putting Celegorm in his chair. "How’s your tummy, Fin? Think you could manage some cake?"

“I can!” Fingon’s stomach made a noise, which might have been approval and might have been concern. “Should we bring it in here?”

"Yes, let’s let everyone get a look at it," he said, taking Fingon’s hand and going to the kitchen. "Now can I leave it to you to carry these plates and these forks?" He grabbed the knife and the cake himself.

Fingon piled the forks on the plates and picked them up. Then he set them down again until Maedhros was ready. “They’re heavy, so we have to hurry,” he informed his cousin.

"Okay, you go on without me. Or take half at a time?" Maedhros suggested, picking up the cake.

“Alright.” Fingon picked up the pile and hurried ahead of his cousin, leaning back as he held the stack of plates against his stomach. “Heavy!” He accelerated as he neared the room and, upon entering, finally relieved himself of his burden. “Ouch.”

"Ooh, I’m sorry, Finno," Maedhros said, quickly setting the cake down and ignoring the exclaims of delight from the others in favor of kneeling by Fingon. "Was it your hands? Did it pinch?" He hugged Fingon close, rubbing his back briskly.

His younger cousin nodded. “It hurts,” Fingon said. “And they were heavy.” He sucked his pinched thumb into his mouth briefly. “Cake now?” he asked. “Please?”

"Yes, of course. You can have the first piece." He took Fingon’s thumb and kissed it. "I’m sorry you got hurt." He kissed it again, face pinched in concern. "Is that better?"

Fingon nodded, hugging Maedhros’ waist as his cousin moved to cut the cake. “Cutting it almost makes me sad,” he whispered. “But I want to eat it, too.”

"It’s all right. We can make an even better one next time!" Maedhros assured him, cutting into the cake and passing Fingon a slice, then Celegorm, then Maglor, then Anairë and his mother and finally a slice for himself. "I think I’ll need my chair back, gentlemen," Maedhros said, laughing and scooping his cousin and his brother into his arms before sitting down.

Fingon laughed, settling on Maedhros’ lap as he picked up his fork. “It looks even better than the excavated bits,” he whispered to his cousin. He hummed in delight at the first bite, shifting as he enjoyed the mix of chocolate and vanilla before finally swallowing. “It’s perfect!” he told Maedhros. “We’re master food crafters, Russ!”

"That we are, Fin," Maedhros said, hugging Fingon close while their mothers laughed in delight and Celegorm, as usual, wolfed his down. "Thanks for your help," he said, and kissed his hair. His own plate of cake remained untouched as both of his hands were full of children.

"Welcome! It was fun." Fingon looked around, realizing that something was wrong. He carefully lifted another bite onto his fork with a good mixture of cake, icing, and shaved chocolate. "Here—want to try a bite?" He held the fork up, offering a taste to Maedhros.

"Ooh! Thank you, Findekáno," Maedhros said, opening his mouth for Fingon to delicately feed him the bite of cake. "Oh, that is good!"

Maglor laughed at him: “Maitimo, you got a little something—” he motioned to wipe his lip, and Maedhros laughed and shrugged.

Fingon set his plate down and grabbed a napkin, carefully wiping Maedhros’ lip clean. “The cake got wasted,” he said sadly. “Oops.” Brightening he grabbed his plate again and took another large bite, chewing it with relish. “Do you want some more, Russ?” Celegorm looked excited and ready to answer until he heard his brother’s name specified. He slumped back, returning to the last few forkfuls of his own piece.

"It’s not wasted," Maedhros said. "Yes, I would love another bite." Fingon was just so cute when he was making his delicate, precise movements, like building the perfect bite of cake and feeding it to him.

"Here, Tyelko," Nerdanel said, standing. "May I hold you so Maitimo can eat?"

Tyelko growled like a tiny feral thing and snuggled back against his brother.

Maedhros shook him. “Here now, don’t say no to amil like that!” he scolded. “I’m glad to hold you, Tyelko, but not if you act like that—” He pulled his arm back, making as if to drop him until he screeched:

"Amil! Amil!" he cried, holding out his arms to her.

Nerdanel scooped him up, winking at Maedhros. Now Maedhros had a free hand with which to eat, while he held Fingon close with the other.

Fingon offered Maedhros the bite he had been carefully creating for him and then went back to feeding himself while Maedhros grabbed his own fork. “It’s really good,” Fingon whispered, snuggling closer. His eyes fell half shut in contentment as he listened to Anairë and Nerdanel chat and felt Maedhros—warm and safe and breathing steadily—behind him. “Thank you for making dinner with me. It was fun. And really nice.” Fingon sighed as he set his plate down. “Love you, Russ,” he breathed softly.

"Love you, too, Finno," Maedhros responded, squeezing him. He was so soft and warm and snuggly on his lap, and so friendly and sweet and he smelled so lovely. "Oh, this is good cake. Who wants another slice?” he asked as he proceeded to take his piece down.

Anairë raised her hand for another as she swallowed, and Nerdanel and Maglor both answered in the affirmative. Maglor took their plates to the coffee table to refill them. Celegorm rubbed his stomach with a groan but raised his hand for more. “Could I have a little piece?” Fingon requested. “And some more tea?”

Maedhros sliced more for everyone before finishing his own. Just as he was taking another slice, the bell sounded, and Huan was up and to the door, yipping loudly.

"Untow Nowo!" Celegorm—who could speak Huan, piped up.

Anairë looked guilty. “Well, I told you I was out later than I meant…”

Maedhros got up, setting Fingon down, to answer the door.

Fingon took a last bite of cake before making his way after Maedhros, chewing and trying to swallow. He took Maedhros’ teacup with him, holding one hand to the rim to make sure it did not spill as he rushed to catch up with Maedhros. “I’m coming too, Russ!” he called after he managed to swallow.

Maedhros paused at the tiny footsteps behind him, and waited for Fingon to join him. “Come on,” he said, sticking out a hand for Fingon to hold as he made his way to the door. “Hullo, Uncle! Back, Huan, sit. Sorry. Aunt Anairë’s here. There’s cake. Come in and have some?”

“Atar! Atar! Mara sinye! Russandol helped me make a mountain cake with choc-o-late and tea and rice and veg and fondue and broth and herby lamb!” Fingon nodded enthusiastically, moving to Fingolfin as quickly as he could while keeping a Maedhros’ tea safe. “And he helped me fix my hair so it won’t get all tangled and caught me a lizard and we helped each other willow swing and took a nap.” Fingolfin laughed. Taking the cup from Fingon’s hand and setting it on a side table near the door Fingolfin picked up his son and spun him around. Fingon giggled, braids flying out behind him.

“You had a good day, then?” Fingon nodded enthusiastically in response. “And you, Nelyo?” Fingolfin asked with a smile, continuing to hold his son close.

"I spent most of it with Finno," he said, in answer, "So we had a great time. Sorry we kept Aunt Anairë overlong, but, as Finno said, we made cake! So she couldn’t leave. May I get you some? And tea?"

Fingolfin nodded with a smile. “I would appreciate it, Nelyo.” He held Maedhros to him with one hand and picked up the cup, offering it back to Fingon. Fingon wrapped one arm around his father’s neck and grabbed the cup, taking another sip.

“Did you want more tea, Russ?” he asked as they began walking down the hall. Fingon relaxed in his father’s arms, head leaning against his shoulder though Fingon’s eyes were ever drawn to Maedhros who was walking at Fingolfin’s side.

"I could hold the cup if you like, Finno," Maedhros offered, taking it from him. "We can still share." He took the teacup from Fingon’s careful hand and guided his uncle in, cutting a piece of cake and pouring tea for him and pulling up an extra chair beside Anairë. When Maedhros finally sat, Fingon crawled down from his father’s lap and into his, and Maedhros took a sip of his tea and returned it to Fingon to hold while he finished his cake.

Fingon leaned up to whisper in his cousin’s ear. “May I still stay with you tonight?” He looked nervous as he asked, though Fingon was mostly enjoying himself and was pleased to have almost all of his favorite people in the same room enjoying cake and tea he had helped to prepare.

"Yes of course," Maedhros whispered back. "Would you like me to ask your atar?" he added with a small smile, sensing Fingon’s bashfulness.

Fingon slipped back down to curl up in his lap. He nodded, tucking his head against Maedhros’ chest as he listened to his aunt and his parents talk. Celegorm was sitting next to Maglor rubbing his stomach while Maglor worked on carving a design into the wood frame of a harp he was constructing.

As the adult conversation died down, Maedhros spoke up: “Uncle. Aunt Anairë said Findekáno could spend the night. We wanted to make sure that was still all right.”

Fingolfin smiled, side-eyeing his wife. “Well if Anairë says it’s all right, who am I to say no? Did she say when she wanted him home tomorrow?”

"Before supper, I said," she offered, sipping her tea.

"How about it? You want to stay, Finno?" Fingolfin asked, cocking his head to look Fingon in the eye.

“Yes, please.” Fingon lifted his head to look at his father, mother and aunt as he spoke. “As long as Russandol wants me to and auntie Nerdanel will allow it, I would very much like to stay.” He flushed slightly at having the attention of the entire room on him and snuggled back against Maedhros. “Can we pour a little more blooming tea?” he asked when the adult conversation picked back up.

"Sure," Maedhros said, "can you hold onto me?" He stood, Fingon on his back, and picked up the teapot and a few of the empty plates. He stared at the dishes, glad he didn’t have to do them, and put more hot water on to boil. "Of course I want you to stay over, Finno. You didn’t need to ask me again. You never need to ask me. The answer will always be yes," he told him with a smile. "Hey, you tired? You look tired. Want to help me put Tyelko and Huan to bed before we get ready for bed?"

“M’kay.” Fingon squeezed his cousin. “Thank you. Love you.” He giggled. “Does Huan dislike bedtimes as much as Turko does?”

"Nah, Huan’s usually pretty good. We have to take him out and make him go potty, though. And I thnk Tyelko’s tired enough not to fuss." Once the water boiled, Maedhros poured it into the pot for one last bloom, and picked up Fingon and the teapot again. "Amil," he said, "I think I’ll take Tyelko to get ready for B-E-D."

Nerdanel smiled. “Thank you, son.”

"Finno, you want to say good night?" Maedhros said as he picked up a nodding Celegorm.

Fingon walked up to Nerdanel, offering her a smile and a huge. “Goodnight auntie. Thank you for having me over.”

Nerdanel smiled and shook her head. “Thank you for helping Maitimo with dinner and dessert.” She kissed Fingon’s head softly. “And thank you for looking after Maitimo—my son needs looking after too, you know,” she whispered for Fingon’s ears alone. Fingon looked up at her with big eyes and nodded seriously.

“Goodnight amil! Tye melin.” He hugged his mother, accepting her kiss as well. Then he jumped into his father’s arms as well, landing sprawled across his chest as Fingolfin leaned back. “G’night atar! Tye melin!” He giggled as his father tickled him and pressed kisses to his face.

“Goodnight little one. Be good for your aunt and your cousin, and take care of yourself.” Fingolfin squeezed Fingon tightly, unable to let him go immediately. “Inye tye-mela,” he whispered. When he set his firstborn down Fingon bounced back to Maedhros’ side.

Maedhros watched Fingon make his rounds fondly and proudly. Celegorm did not put up much of a struggle, only whined and grumped softly as he laid his head against Maedhros’ shoulder. Maedhros waited for Fingon and took his hand as he brought Celegorm to the washroom, helped him change into sleeping clothes, brush his teeth, and wash his face before putting him down in his bed and tucking him in. Maglor appeared to take Huan outside briefly, so when they laid Celegorm down, Huan was there to curl around him.

"Nigh’ Nelyo, nigh’ Finno, nigh’ Kano, nigh Huan. I love you," Celegorm mumbled as he drifted to sleep with Huan licking his face.

Smiling, Maedhros picked Fingon up and carried him back to his room. “How tired are you? Shall we get ready for bed and then read? Or get ready for bed and go right to bed?”

"Will you read this time?" Fingon suggested, leaning against Maedhros’ shoulder with a yawn. "And may I borrow sleep clothes?"

"Yes," Maedhros said, rummaging through his clothes for a clean shirt—it would be too big but it would do—and undressed and redressed him before carrying him into the washroom. They shared a toothbrush and a hand towel and a face towel, and as Fingon looked really ready to drift off Maedhros carried him back to his bed. "What would you like me to read?" He asked, knowing it wouldn’t matter.

Fingon shrugged. “Anything. A story or a poem or another geography book.” He snuggled into the soft sheets waiting for Maedhros to join him.

Maedhros grabbed an adventure story which he knew had some pictures in it and turned off all the lights but the one he could reach from his bed. He opened it to his favorite part—the fight with the Dragon—and began to read, tucking Fingon in his lap.

Fingon cuddled close, closing his eyes as he listened to Maedhros speak. His cousin did voices a well as his mother did, and Maedhros was warm and protective and encouraged Fingon to curl closer against him. Fingon smiled and lost himself in Maedhros’ voice and the amazing adventure and epic fight he was describing.

To his credit, Fingon stayed awake until the dragon was defeated, but he didn’t last much longer. He mumbled something about continuing to read and promptly started snoring. Trying not to laugh, Maedhros read on a bit further until he was certain Fingon was fast asleep before putting the book down and turning off the light. In the dark he rearranged them carefully, until Fingon rested his head against Maedhros’ shoulder and both of Maedhros’ arms were wrapped around him. He made certain that Fingon was sufficiently covered with blankets and, before drifting off to sleep himself, he took the opportunity to plant a soft kiss on Fingon’s brow. “Good night, Findekáno,” he whispered, and closed his eyes.

Fingon woke once in the early hours tilting his head up to see where he was. He smiled at Maedhros sleeping beneath him and kissed his cousin on the cheek before nestling close. Fingon pulled the sheet up high and fell back asleep with Maedhros’ arms draped over him protectively.


End file.
